


Elope

by NorthernSerpent



Series: Falice: From A to Z [5]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, FP is so oblivious, Falice sex, Marriage of Convenience, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-26 22:42:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15672759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernSerpent/pseuds/NorthernSerpent
Summary: Basically it starts like this: “We need to get married.”“Um why?”And then it escalates from there.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. This one got away from me. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but then it became much to long to be considered a one-shot so I split it up into chapters. 
> 
> A few things. I haven't actually finished S2 yet so the timeline might be a little strange. Also, there will be smut in future chapters. Enjoy!

“We need to get married.”

The words tumble out of Alice's mouth as soon as FP lets her through his door. Her simple demand is the last thing he expected to hear in the middle of the week when the sun is at its highest point. She's standing there in the middle of his trailer in a black pinstripe suit, no blouse, a gold chain tempting his eyes down to her cleavage. At first glance, she seems composed, like she had long ago decided that there is nothing left to discuss. But there is something hiding behind the turbulent ocean in her eyes. It almost looks like fear. 

“Um, why?” he stammers because nothing about this situation is making any sense. 

Alice puts her hands on her hips and narrows her eyes. “Apparently, my serial killer ex-husband is quite knowledgeable about Riverdale’s criminal activities and is using it to negotiate a plea deal.”

FP frowns, still not totally understanding how that led to her proposing in the most demanding way possible. 

She continues, her calm facade slowly breaking, each word more desperate than the last. “FP, he knows I hid a body. He thinks Betty has nothing to do with it, and he doesn't know about your involvement but if they investigate me, they'll investigate you and-” a sob escapes. “I couldn't live with that.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, when she opens them, her steely resolve is back and so is the speech FP knows she practiced in her head all morning. 

“FP, if we get married, we'll have spousal privileges.”

Comprehension hits him like a runaway train. If they married, they wouldn't have to testify against each other. He has no idea what say that will make her stop watching him so expectantly. 

Maybe she was expecting some form of resistance on his part, that he would tell her that this was a stupid plan, that it would still look suspicious since the ink on their divorce papers have just dried. Also what about the kids? It always ends up being about the kids. 

But they'd be no good to their kids from prison and Alice is standing in front of him asking him -no telling him-to marry her.

“Stop gaping like a fish and say something,” she snaps. She's getting impatient and he doesn't blame her. She's gone out on a limb and he's scratching his brain with nothing to say other than --

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Okay, I’ll marry you.”

Alice blinks. “Well, good. We’re on the same page.”

“I always imagined the day when you’d go down on one knee, but this works too,” he shrugs, holding back a grin as she shoots daggers at him. “So how do you want to do this, Alice? What about a big spring wedding next May? Or a fall wedding by the river? Just think of the pictures!”

Alice grimaces. “FP, we don’t have time for that. We need to get married as soon as possible.”

“Won’t that be suspicious?”

“I’ve thought about that” she says because of course she has thought about every possible scenario. FP wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if she were to pull out a Powerpoint Presentation. “Look, we’ve both done the marriage thing before so it would check out that we would want something small and intimate. Plus, we’ve known each other for years and we have a history...”

She trails off and stares at the ground, twisting her bracelet around her wrist. 

“Us being married would make sense to outside observers,” FP finishes her thought.

“Exactly,” she almost sounds like she’s unsure of herself. FP doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because she’s dropping down on one knee in front of him.

“So how about it? Will you, FP Jones the second, marry me today?”

“I was kidding about the proposal. I didn’t actually think you’d-”

“FP!” she scowls. “Hurry up and answer me before I change my mind.”

“Alright fine!” he almost laughs at the relief that crosses her face. He reaches for her hands, and pulls her up. Wrapping his arms around her, he mumbles softly in her hair, “I’ll always say yes to you, Alice.”

 

-

 

“What are we going to tell the kids?” Alice paces back and forth in her kitchen. Now that the kids were due to arrive from school at any moment, she is spiralling. “This was a terrible. FP, why did you agree to this? Why didn’t you talk me out of it?”

FP watches from the barstool, fidgeting with his new gold band. It feels strange on his finger.

FP stands and places a steadying hand on Alice’s - his  _ wife’s _ \- shoulders. “We’ve been through this. There will be questions. There will be a lot of emotions, actually it will probably just be anger and confusion. But we’re married now. It’s not like they caught us having an orgy.”

Alice snorts. “You’re right.”

They had agreed that the kids didn’t need to know everything about the circumstances of their quickie wedding. Alice had laid out a backstory on the drive to City Hall while FP teased her about having thought about this before. 

She threw a candy wrapper at him and continued outline her detailed lie. There was nothing too far from the truth. A few things were a bit of a stretch, but there were no outright lies. 

Because, according to Alice, the most convincing lies are always based in truth. 

 

-

 

“Is that Mr Jones? What’s he doing here?” Polly’s voice echoes from the ipad in Betty’s lap. “What kind of family meeting is this?”

“You know as much as we do,” Jughead shrugs. 

At Alice’s request, they’ve convened around her dining table. On one side the parents, poker faces ready. On the other side mirroring them, Betty, Jughead, and a virtual Polly. 

FP catches Alice’s nervous glance and reaches for her hand under the table, giving it a light squeeze as if to say “it’ll be okay.”

“FP and I have something to tell you,” she begins before being interrupted by her youngest daughter.

“Oh God, you’re dating,” Betty groans and slumps in her seat. 

This is not how it was supposed to go.

“Well, not exactly-” Alice flounders before glaring at FP’s lack of help. With that simple glance, the adults’ control of the situation went flying out the window.

“ _ Not exactly _ ? What does that mean?”

“I thought the incest came from the Cooper side of the family!”

“Mom, he’s a criminal! He buried Jason’s body!”

“This doesn’t make sense. When did you even get together?”

“Jesus, you’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

“When are you due?”

FP buries his head in his hands while Alice tries to salvage control of the situation. “Enough!” she cries, immediately shutting everybody up. “I’m not pregnant!”

“Dad?” Jughead treads cautiously. “What’s that on your finger?”

_ Shit. _

Three sets of eyes stare at his left hand. FP has never felt more exposed in his life.

“I can’t really see. It’s all pixelated,” complains Polly. “Is it a wedding ring?”

“It is…” FP nods slowly while quickly shoving his hand under the table away from scrutiny.

Betty speaks up, her mother’s steely resolve manifesting. “Mom, can we see your hand?”

Alice gingerly sets her left hand on the table. The ring they had bought at a Pawn Shop glistened under the lights that suddenly seemed too hot and too bright. 

“You two got married?” Jughead exclaims.“When?”

“Today,” FP confesses. 

Jughead and Betty share a disbelieving look. As FP had predicted, they’re angry and confused.

“Mom, you eloped?” Polly exclaims from the screen. “I have so many questions. I don’t even know where to start!”

“Question number 1,” Betty began. “Why?”

Why couldn't they have just dated like normal people? Why did they have to get married in secret?

FP looks to his new better half, hoping that she’s thought this part through. It’s not like they could tell the kids it was for the legal perks. As parents, it’s their job to protect them and if Betty and Jug were to know the truth, they could be in trouble. 

“Because I love FP,” Alice states simply and earnestly. “I've loved him a long time and I couldn't bear to spend one more second not married to him. 

FP reaches for her hand on the table and gives it a tight squeeze. If it wasn’t for their fraudulent circumstances, maybe he would have allowed himself to believe her. 

  
  


-

  
  


FP Jones II had never been particularly great at thinking things through. When he was 8 years old, he got his tongue stuck on the flagpole at school on a dare. It happened not once, not twice, but six times before he drew blood and the teacher gave him a stern talking to. The following year, he fell through the icy river because he wanted to see how long it would take to crack. As a teen, he didn’t think twice before shotgunning multiple tall boys and being cursed with hangovers from hell. Not to mention, he gladly joined the Serpents because why not? It seemed like a good time and drug running seemed like easy money.

Alice was always better at thinking and planning. When FP forgot to bring a pen to class, she would wordlessly hand him one. She always had extras, and he sometimes he wondered if she took his forgetfulness into account. 

At the age of 12, she had decided she was going to be a journalist. She had her intricate 5 year plans sketched out and she was remarkably good at sticking to them. Even when there were baby bumps along the way. 

FP always admired her ability to think with her brain while he followed his gut. 

“We need to discuss logistics,” she states and it is possibly the most Alice thing he has ever heard her say.

Betty and Jughead had left and were planning on crashing with Veronica and Archie for the night. They needed to process the news which was more than okay with FP. That terrible roundtable discussion is not something he wanted to prolong. Perhaps talking it through with their friends would help.

“I'm not moving in here,” he protests immediately and she arches a perfect eyebrow in amusement. He realizes it's a completely ridiculous demand given that he has had no qualms about anything up until now. Living in the shattered ruins of the Cooper Family House seems like a step too far.

“I don't blame you. All the sage in the world can't get rid of the evil in this house. “ She fiddles with her ring that’s just a size too big. “I’ve been sleeping in the guest room,” she confesses softly.

Her house is plagued with darkness. The ghosts of a dead body, of an imposter, and of a murderer linger within the walls. 

On the other hand, the trailer isn’t big enough for their newly blended family. It was cramped enough with Betty staying with the Jones boys all those months ago. FP didn’t even want to know what if would be like with an extra body and the potential for out-of-town daughters stopping in unannounced. 

“Maybe we should look into some other houses,” FP suggests. 

“We’ll have to crunch the numbers. And run it by-” her voice wavers slightly. To anybody else, it wouldn’t have been noticeable.

“-the kids,” he finishes her thought. She smiles sadly and avoids his eyes. “Don’t worry, Alice. They just need some time. They’ll come around.”

“In the meantime, do you mind staying with me?” It’s a simple question but the way she says it takes his breath away. Her normally decisive voice is small and vulnerable. At his hesitation she adds, “At least until we figure something else out?”

“Only if Jughead gets Polly’s old room.”

“Of course,” Alice states is like a fact because anything else would be incomprehensible.

  
  


-

 

When Jellybean disconnects from facetime, FP sighs and discards his phone on the table. 

“Well, it didn’t go  _ terribly, _ ” Alice tries to reassure him and he groans. It didn’t go particularly well either.

Telling Jellybean about her new stepmom easily crossed into the Top 5 Most Uncomfortable Moments of FP’s Life. It’s definitely up there along with the time Jughead dragged his hungover-still-probably-drunk ass to a parent-teacher conference, and last year’s Homecoming Dinner with the Coopers.

It never ceased to amaze him how much his daughter changes each time he sets eyes on her. Chewing bubblegum, eyes coated in dark eyeshadow, and a frighteningly apathetic attitude to match.  He barely recognizes her anymore and it’s totally his fault for missing half her childhood to the bottle.

“She knows you love her and that she has an open invitation to visit,” she walks up behind his seat and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. He reaches up and catches her fingers in his. 

“She’ll come around.”

Jellybean will come around. She has to. 

_ Everyone _ will have to. 

This isn’t a phase. They’re married. 

They’re playing the long con.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s only in the middle of the night, while Alice sleeps soundly beside him, that FP stares at the ceiling and lets himself sit with the fact that he is totally and utterly fucked. 

They don’t sleep together. They don’t do beds. It’s just not how they work. As teens, they had the occasional stolen moment - a makeout session by the river, a quick hookup behind the bleachers. And it was barely six months ago when she knocked on his door with a snakeskin blouse and her lips painted a deep shade of burgundy.

They never even made it to his bed.

Normally FP is a huge proponent of foreplay, letting it set the scene for something steamier later. But that time, all FP wanted was to get down to business and take her. The gasps and moans that escaped her lips as he kissed his way down her neck let him know that she was more than willing to let him.

Alice pulls out a silver wrapper from her back pocket and tosses it at him. 

“Damn, Alice, You're prepared,” FP said a little surprised. She planned this to a T. He didn't know if he should be flattered or offended that she thought he was such an easy lay. 

“Better to be safe than sorry,” she stated as she unbuttoned her pants and tossed them aside. She didn’t even bother with her top.

His fingers flew to his fly and he pulled his jeans down to his knees and slipped the condom over his eager cock. 

Alice bent over the couch, her ass in the air and her serpent tattoo on her hip contrasting on her alabaster skin.

She was on all fours with him behind her, panting, moaning, telling him _ harder _ ,  _ faster. _

_ Fuck, FP. I’m so close _ .

He gripped her hips even tighter as she cursed his name and soon he was right there with her, tumbling over the edge into the abyss.

She picked up her stuff and left and they didn’t talk about it again.

Which was fine. They were great at not talking. It was kind of their thing.

Of course that was before, when she was still Alice Cooper. Before she made the decision to take his name and become Alice Jones.

“I’m tired of sharing my name with a baby boomer rock star,” she explained to a flabbergasted FP as they drove to City Hall. What she didn’t say, but what FP inferred was that she was also tired of sharing her name with her crazy ex and his weird messed up family.

FP is pulled out of his thoughts when Alice shifts in her sleep and her side brushes his. Her brief touch ripples right through him and he is more awake than ever.

FP hadn’t shared a bed since the time he forced Jughead to share the pullout couch with him while Betty crashed at the trailer. He can’t remember the time before that.

Normally, FP could fall asleep anywhere, but tonight in Alice’s guest bed he can’t get his mind nor his body to slow down enough for sleep to take him. Every accidental brush of skin sets his skin on fire, so he tosses and turns hoping to wake her up.

By the time the sun starts peeking through the blinds, he's given up. Carefully, he rolls out of bed and heads to the kitchen to make himself the strongest cup of coffee imaginable.

He leans against the granite counter and and gently blows on his coffee. He’s not really sure where he should sit, where he fits in this house. Would Alice have a fit if he brought it into the living room? Is it a no food zone? 

The front door creaks open and FP goes to investigate. Betty emerges and pauses as she sees FP. “Oh, you’re up.”

He puts a finger to his lips. “Your mom is still asleep.”

Betty cringes. “I just came by to get by to get my books,” she says as she rushes up and down the stairs. She hesitates when she places her hand on the doorknob on her way out, something clearly weighing on her. She turns towards FP who is sitting on the edge of the couch.

“FP, can I ask you something”

“Sure, kiddo.”  FP carefully blows on his still-hot coffee to try to calm his nerves. Betty has all the makings of a great investigative journalist and the last thing he needs is to be on the receiving end of her questions.

“Whose idea was it to elope?”

 

“Your mom’s,” FP is relieved that he’s able to give Betty one solid piece of honesty. 

Betty's face falls. “That's what I was afraid of.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, FP, I like you. But over the last year my mom's been…” she pauses thinking of the proper word to describe her mother. “...Unpredictable. I’ve watched her go from Martha Stewart, to ordering ordering snake themed outfits off the internet. One minute she's writing inflammatory articles about the Southside, and then she all but rejoins them. Not to mention the revolving door that was my parents’ marriage….” she trails off because apparently the loose thread on her cuff suddenly became incredibly interesting. 

FP doesn’t really know what to say to that so he lets Betty talk. Alice has never really done well with the emotional side of things. She's all logic and precision until something no longer computes. And then it's like her brain succumbs to the blue screen of death. 

“At one point I thought she was going to join a cult,” Betty confesses offhandedly and FP chokes on his drink. “She’s had a terrible year and I’m worried this is another weird phase. I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

Somebody, presumably Archie, honks outside.

“Anyway, I have to go. Everyone’s waiting for me. Later, FP!”

And then his new step-daughter turns on her heel and runs out the door leaving a very perplexed FP behind.

  
  


-

  
  


Alice has it all figured out. She has spreadsheets filled with equations and projections and FP doesn’t really understand most of what she’s saying. He catches keywords: 401K, 529 Plans, mortgage, medical bills, mutual funds, child support, insurance. 

Somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that their finances are now linked. It took Alice shoving her computer under his nose for him to truly comprehend what he has gotten himself into.

Years ago, when he and Gladys got married, they didn’t have any money to share so it was a non-issue. This time around, Alice has a hefty divorce settlement comprised of dirty Blossom-Cooper money that left her more than comfortable. 

She sits on the chair with her silver computer in her lap prattling on and on about numbers. Alice is dressed for business in a baby blue blouse and dress pants and her glasses on the tip of her nose. Meanwhile, FP sits at the end of her couch, still clad in his plaid pyjamas not having bothered to change just yet. His feet are resting on the coffee table and his arm propped is up under his chin keeping his head up.

He’s trying to follow, really he is. He knows this stuff is important, that it affects more than just him and Alice  - it’s about the  _ kids. _

FP is not entirely sure what he’s agreeing to. It’s just that his eyelids are already so heavy, and keeping them open is proving to be more and more of a struggle. His new wife offers to put a reasonable dent in Jughead’s outstanding medical bills, and she mentions something about setting up a fund for Jellybean.

Alice’s voice is like a lullaby and combined with her _ incredibly _ boring talk of numbers, he never really stood a chance. He’s always had a hard time with math, even as far back as elementary school. It’s like his brain just shuts off whenever they get involved. 

He barely registers her exasperated sigh. “FP? Are you even listening to me?”

He hums in response.

The last thing he remembers, is her sigh and a soft blanket being tossed on top of him.

 

-

 

FP wakes with a start when his arm gives out under his heavy head. He rubs his eyes to find her peering over her glasses with a crochet needle and half a blanket in hand. The tv is on with some terrible chick flick playing quietly in the background.

“Hello, Sleeping Beauty.”

“How long was I out?” He tosses his blanket to the side, and rubs a kink out of his neck. 

Alice fingers expertly hooks through her yarn. She answers him without even looking down at her project. “About 40 minutes.”

“Shit. I’m sorry I fell asleep.”

“You better be,” she points her needle at him threateningly, but the twinkle in her eye tells him that he may just be out of the woods. It's not that he didn't care, he just didn't want to deal with it when he's had barely any sleep. 

She's still watching him, and he can’t help but feel exposed under her scrutiny. He shifts uncomfortably, and instantly becomes painfully aware of the tent in his pants. 

He shifts again, awkwardly grabbing the blanket back and throwing it over his lap in the off chance she hasn’t already seen his mid-morning wood. 

Alice purses her lips and places her crochet aside. 

“I can help you with that, you know.”

FP blinked, unsure if he had heard her right. She said it in the same way she talks about what she's going to be making for dinner. Like it's a fact and there is no use arguing about it. 

“I mean, only if you want to,” he swallows. His mouth is incredibly dry. She comes over to him and gently pushes the blanket aside to settle herself in between his legs. Her fingers hover over her buttons, barely grazing them, taunting him with what's underneath.  He briefly wonders if they maybe shouldn't be in the midst of recreating the circumstances that led to their unprecedented hook up just a few months ago.

“I want to,” she pops open her top button and bites her lip. FP inhales sharply. The top of her cleavage is right within his eyeline.  “The question is” she undoes another and somehow leans in closer, “do you? “

He immediately gives in to her because he's never had any willpower when it comes to her. FP tangles his hands in her hair to hungrily bring her lips down to meet his. She lets out a small yelp of surprise but soon she's kissing him just as desperately. This is way steamier than the first kiss they shared as husband and wife. It was a super awkward peck in front of two random strangers in a government building. But now, in her Alice’s living room, everything comes together: his frantic heart, his fingers sliding through his hair, and her mouth tasting better than he remembered.

His hands are everywhere, running up and down under her open blouse.  Wanting,  _ needing _ to feel the woman underneath the Northside uniform.

FP groans at the loss of contact when her lips leave his. But then Alice’s legs are wrapped around his waist, straddling him on her couch and she’s nipping at his earlobe, and sucking their way down his neck -

“Alice, you said you’d help my situation, not make it worse,” he says, eyes closed.

She smiles against his neck. “Patience, FP. Patience.”

Alice continues moving down until her lips meet his collarbone. Reaching for the hem of his t-shirt, she pulls it over his head and tosses it somewhere on the floor. She lets a gentle hand run along his side tracing his Serpent tattoo. He moans at her touch which seems to spurr her on and she’s back to kissing him.

She moans and FP feels his pants tighten even more. But then Alice stops kissing him. She untangles herself from his lap and pulls away. FP’s eyes fly open, crazy with need, not understanding why she had stopped, and hoping that regret isn’t making an ugly appearance.

Alice drops to her knees and tugs his pants down letting his erection stand tall and free. She starts kissing down his navel and then heads further down.

The penny drops. FP knows  _ exactly _ what Alice is doing. 

She moves her head down so her lips are touching the inside of his thighs. She kisses all around them while still keeping eye contact with him. She stops for a moment, starts gently massaging his balls. He feels like he’s never needed anything so badly in his life. She knows fullwell the wait is killing him, and judging by her dark eyes, FP can tell it's killing her too.

She moves her mouth and flicks her tongue on his tip, starts sucking on it, curls her tongue around him. She opens her mouth a little, lets her hot breath on the head of his cock, and FP twitches under in her hand. All the while her eyes are on him. Always only on him as he starts to fall apart beneath her. His breathing is frantic, his moans erratic. She envelops his shaft in her mouth, tries to take him all in and his hand moves to the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair, trying to find something to hold onto.

“I'm... I'm going to..” his voice is strangled. His hips thrust involuntarily against her.

And she keeps sucking him hard, slides her hands to his balls, cups them gently as she continues to run her mouth up and down his shaft. Over and over. Faster and faster. Begging for him to release it all in her mouth.

And then finally, when he thinks he's ready to burst, he falls apart, falls over the edge with a stifled moan, and she catches him with her mouth, savours the the hot seed he's pouring into her.

She lets go of him. Reaches to the side tables, and reaching for a kleenex to clean up this mess they’ve made together.  Before she can clear away any evidence of what just transpired, FP catches her hand. 

“My turn.” FP pulls her up so she’s standing and runs a hand under her waistband. “Take these off.”

She raises an eyebrow, accepts his challenge and undresses slowly. First her pants, then the rest of her shirt. Then she reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra tossing it on the floor, followed by the tiny scrap of fabric that is her underwear.

FP swallows the lump in his throat. “You’re such a tease.”

He lies her down on the couch, hooks one leg over the back of it and starts kissing the length of her leg. Her ankle, up to her knee, her thigh, her tattoo and then further still. She lets out a shuddering breath and her hands have found their way to his hair.

He stops his careful ministrations and looks up at her to find her glaring at him. “Say the word, and I'll stop.”

“ _ Don’t you dare _ .” 

He laughs softly, his stubble scratching against her leg and he continues his way up. Another kiss and she moans helplessly, arching towards him. When his mouth falls not to her sex, but her quivering thighs for the longest moments, kissing, sucking, licking, her hands let go of his hair and grab onto a discarded cushion. 

“Don’t make me beg,” Alice curses.

She hisses and tightens her grip the cushions as FP trails his hot tongue up and down the inside of her leg.

“FP...“

He never quite gives her what she's begging for. He moves to her other leg, swirls patterns, works his way upwards again, makes her arch her hips in desperation before repeating the same little strokes.

“FP,  _ please, _ ” she chokes out, trying to be commanding. She looks down at him, sees his head pressed between her legs. “Taste me, please.”

“Well since you asked nicely…”

Finally, his lips brush gently against her slick core and they are hotter than the flames of the fire they're playing with. Alice jerks and moans involuntarily. FP can see the pressure building within her. His lavishes her clit, slowly, then quickly, adding a finger, and then two to the mix.

He needs her to fall apart, to lose her mind, to come with his name on his lips. He needs to know he’s not the only one who feels this.

Her orgasm is quick, but it leaves her weak with its force. Alice props herself up with a trembling arm and looks down at him between heavy lids. He meets her gaze, licks his lips because he feels that familiar knot in his stomach when he sees that primal look in her eyes.

He stands, and for a moment, he thinks this might be it, but then she moves up his body, wraps her arms around him and kisses him. FP can taste the remnants of himself on her lips. She pushes him back onto the couch and she follows. 

“I’m clean and have an IUD,” she states suddenly, breaking the moment.

“All covered on my end.” His voice is raspy and he doesn't even recognize it. 

A brilliant smile spreads across her face. “Good.”

She rises on her knees, sits up fully, as he wraps his arms around her. He brings his lips to hers and gently kisses her again. Wrapping one arm around his neck, she runs the other down up arm, commanding him with her caress to stay with her. 

She lowers her hips onto his cock, a shaky breath is released at their bodies finally coming together. 

“FP...” and she moans his name again. Her hips roll over his. 

The steady buildup is coming back. Her name leaves his lips a few times, before giving way to his groans and inability to say anything else. FP focuses on her face, eyes dark and glassy with desire and like him, she is  _ so close _ .

FP recognizes this building tension inside and he's overwhelmed by the heat and  slickness of their bodies moving together, and the rightness of everything that should be wrong. It’s almost too much to bear. His body, so recently touched by Alice is suddenly right there again.

“Alice,” he rasps her name for the first time. “Come with me.”

Alice whimpers as the spasms hit her once more, stronger than before and, she scrambles to get her arms around his neck. And it feels like forever when he finally gives into his own growing sense of urgency. FP is totally overcome by the sensations of them here together, sweaty limbs tangled together, gasping mouths...

Screwing like the newlyweds that they are.


	3. Chapter 3

They barely get anything else done the rest of the day. They  _ try _ , only to keep getting distracted by each other.

He watches silently from three feet away as Alice lathers peanut butter on white bread followed by a spoonful of honey. He knows that if he takes one step closer, he’ll be lifting her on the countertop and he’ll be eating something else for lunch.

They’ve finally gotten properly dressed, but Alice’s hair is tied up haphazardly and her bangs are falling in her eyes. 

FP blinks and while his eyes are pointed in her general direction, they are unfocused. His head is suddenly full of images of her. Of them. On the couch he can see in the corner of his eye. 

He needs to get out of this house.

Everything is too much too fast. He doesn’t even know what she wants from him.

And he’s starting to realize that he wants everything from her.

 

-

 

Officially, FP heads back to his trailer to pack up a few more things. Unofficially, it’s because he’s itching to hop on his bike and cruise down an open road. There is nothing like a bike ride to clear the mind. 

He’s just finished changing into his leather getup, when the front door jiggles open. 

“What are you doing here?” Jughead drops his school bag by the door. “I thought you’d be with Mrs Coop- I mean Mrs Jones.” He grimaces and collapses on the couch. “Alice doesn’t feel right either. I have no idea what to call her.”

“How about Al? Mama Al? Mama Jones? Ohhh what about Mama J?”

Jughead scrunches up his nose. “Dad, you do realize that not only is she my stepmom but she’s also kind of like my mother-in-law? I’m not calling her Mama anything. Besides she's already hates me. “

“She doesn't hate you. Alice is just cursed with resting bitch face.” 

“Dad! That's your wife you're talking about!” Jughead lets out a laugh. “I'm going to tell her you said that.”

“Don’t you dare.”

FP walks to the counter and grabs his motorcycle keys. He takes a breath and turns to his son. Asks him a question that's been plaguing him since this mess started. “Are we okay?”

“We’ll get there,” Jughead shrugged. “Honestly the least upsetting part is that you eloped with my girlfriend’s mom. What gets me is that this whole thing came out of nowhere. I thought you two hated each other but now I see that you just never grew out of pulling pigtails on the playground.”

Now Jughead is on a roll. Everything that has been brewing over the last day is being released.

“it's just whatever happened to being honest with each other? You know, after your wedding announcement yesterday, Betty of all people told me that you and her mom had a thing back in high school. Dad, how far back does it go?”

“Jughead, you know I’ve never been the best at planning things through. Alice hit me like a hurricane and I got swept up.”

Jughead considers this. “Were you together while you were both still married?”

“Of course not!” he denies vehemently. It's mostly true. Both their marriages were essentially over when Alice showed up at his doorstep that time. They just didn't have the piece of paper proving it just yet. Nothing else had ever happened.

Jughead continues his line of questioning.

“How long have you been in love with her?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. 

It wasn’t love at first sight. That he knows. He doesn’t remember the day he met her and that’s probably because Riverdale is so goddamn tiny that he probably knew everybody by the time he was 6. 

He doesn’t remember the process of falling in love, has no idea when he was struck with Cupid’s arrow. It seems like it should be something he would have,  _ should  _ have noticed. 

He spent so long trying to deny his feelings that his timeline is probably skewed anyway. Now he has tangible evidence of how she feels under her hands, how she feels under his, of the way her mouth was open and hot against his. It’s now impossible to deny.

“Jug, I love her so much,” he admits weakly. It hurts so much to finally say it out loud and he feels like his heart is going to explode.

Loving Alice hadn’t been sudden. If it had been sudden, he would be able to pinpoint the exact moment. Instead it happened gradually over many years and over the occasional coffee. Over witty comebacks and hidden smiles, quiet worries and silent tears. 

Jughead frowns, clearly not knowing what to do. He stands awkwardly and throws an arm over his father. They don’t often do hugs as they’re often meant for life or death situations, but this seems like as good a time as any. 

“I know you love her, Dad,” Jughead pats his shoulder. The whole thing feels wrong somehow. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

 

-

 

His heart wants Alice, has wanted her for longer than he's willing to admit. 

He is so utterly fucked. 

FP makes it halfway to Greendale before the hairs stand on the back of his neck and he's turning his bike back to Alice's. The sun is dipping under the horizon and he knows better than to stick around waiting for the nighttimers to come out. 

When he arrives at his new home, she's crocheting again. To him, it always seemed like an old lady hobby but Alice makes such wonderfully intricate things with a piece of string. She does it like she does everything, precisely and perfectly. Never letting a stitch drop. 

“Where is everyone?” he looks around. The only lights were the ones illuminating her project. 

“Bijou. Apparently there's a special double feature tonight.”

FP leans back on his heels. They were alone again. “Do you want to-”

“Yes.”

She doesn't let him finish his thought. Instead, she drops her yarn and heads toward their bedroom. “Are you coming?” she turns her head when she sees him still standing there bewildered.

He wasn’t even going to suggest _ that _ and he is utterly stunned that she did. He was going to suggest playing a boardgame, watching a movie at home. But this works too. 

He figures there are probably worse things than being in love with your wife.

 


	4. Chapter 4

FP awakens when the air is knocked out of him when Alice’s fist makes contact with his stomach.

“What the hell, Alice?” he doubles over, gripping where she punched him. With one hand, he rolls over with a wince and turns on the bedside light. “What was that for?”

His annoyance turns to concern when he catches a glimpse of her. Alice’s eyes are wide open in terror, shiny with unshed tears. He sits up and pulls her into his side. She’s trembling. “Hey, hey it’s okay.” 

“FP…” her voice breaks. “You’re FP.”

“Last time I checked…” he frowns. “Alice, what’s going on?”

“You’re here, it’s you, you’re here,” she buries her face into his shirt and inhales deeply. Nothing she’s saying makes any sense. “You smell like my body wash mixed with beard oil.”

“I keep forgetting to get some of my own,” he admits, trying to keep it light. He lets himself run his fingers through her tangled hair. Her breathing seems to be evening out so he must be doing something right. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She doesn’t answer right away, which is fine. She takes another deep breath and he backtracks. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to-”

“I don’t know where to start,” she mumbles. “It was just a nonsensical nightmare.”

FP doesn’t say anything. He keeps running his hand through her hair and he waits for her to be ready.

“Our son was there,” she wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. His chest tightens at the mention of their illegitimate son he only recently became aware of. “You and he moved to Greendale with Betty and Jughead leaving me behind. And then Hal escaped prison and hunted you down and he made me watch as he tortured and killed each of you.”

There’s probably more that she isn’t telling him, intentionally or unintentionally. Dreams are always bizarre. They don’t always make sense, and it’s near impossible to remember them upon waking up. 

FP tightens his grip on her. “Betty and Jughead are fine. I’m fine. We’re not going anywhere.”

She turns her face towards him, conflict evident in the ocean in her eyes. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive me for what happened with Charles?”

It's a process. They have 25 years of hostility that can't be ignored. Years that have been swept under the rug. 

And FP is only starting to really process it all. 

“Alice, you did what you could given the information you had at the time,” he wipes a tear from her cheek with his thumb and kisses her softly. “It's a long process, but I know I'm getting there. I will get there. I want to.”

She gives him a watery smile.

“The real question is: do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive yourself?”

She laughs bitterly. "Yeah. No."

“That’s okay,” he reassures her, stifling a yawn. “Until then, you’ve always got me.”

Something odd flickers across her face, but he doesn’t think much of it before he’s being pulled back in by the Sandman.

  
  


-

  
  


The one thing that everybody agrees on is that the sooner the Cooper House goes up for sale, the better. The Jones boys feel too much like guests for it too ever feel like home. Not to mention, Polly’s old room is much too pink for Jughead's tastes. 

Jughead and Betty are in the living room, arguing about paint chips. Painting and redecorating  the room would have to be the temporary solution. Thanks to the Lodge Family and the virtues of being a small town, the housing market in Riverdale is abysmal. Even ignoring the history of the Cooper house, they recognize that it might be a long time before they sell and find a new house of their own.

While Alice works on dinner, FP sits at the counter scouring through listings.

“All these houses here are garbage,” FP sighs. “They’re either in Ghoulie territory, or they look like they have asbestos. Or both.”

Not to mention there is nothing big enough in the Southside to accommodate all the kids and grandkids. And the listings in the Northside are slimpickings since it's a more desirable area.

“FP, it’s our first day of looking. Something will come up,” Alice reminds him as she chops up some garlic. “We could always look elsewhere. There isn’t much tying me here anymore. What will be left for me when Betty and Jughead head off to college?”

Except that will take time and nobody, including Alice and Betty, seem keen on staying in this creepy house. They also have a very specific wishlist which considerably narrows the search. Four bedrooms, at least 3 bathrooms, a double garage, a large yard, a functional kitchen, a fireplace… Alice will not compromise any of those items and FP definitely gets why. They have potential visitors to accommodate. 

“I’m worried that it will be hard for us to find anything anywhere,” FP leans back in his seat and stretches his head above his head. “Why can’t we build our own house?” he whines sarcastically.

He doesn't think she’ll take him seriously. But she stops chopping and her eyes are lit up with ideas.

“Alice, I was kidding.”

“I know you were, but that idea is actually not half-bad,” she’s smiling and chattering about finding an empty lot and all FP can think of is how much it makes his heart soar when he’s the reason for her smile.

News travels fast in Riverdale, and faster still within the kids’ friend circles. On the third night of FP and Alice’s marriage, her neighbour Fred knocks on the door. He’s carrying a cardboard tube with a white bow stuck on top.

“Apparently congratulations are in order,” Fred says as he passes the tube to FP. “At first I was a little insulted I didn’t know about you two, but as it turns out, nobody knew. Not even your children.”

Alice looks away. Is that a blush gracing her cheeks? “What can we say? It just happened so quickly. When you know, you know.”

“I just couldn’t say no to this one,” FP sticks a thumb out and Alice scrunches up her face.

FP pulls the lid off the tube and unrolls a large piece of paper. It’s some sort of sketch with dimensions and notes scribbled in the margins.

“Are these blueprints?” he asks even though they’re clearly blueprints. He just doesn't understand why Fred is gifting them.

“Blueprints for what?” Alice peers over his arm and squints. “I need my glasses,” she curses softly against him. 

FP knows perfectly well what those lines mean. “It’s a house.”

“It’s my wedding present,” Fred smiles proudly. “Of course, it’s a very early sketch and things will likely have to change once we know more about your lot and the materials you want to use-”

“Fred!” FP cuts him off. Alice is next to him absolutely stunned. “This is amazing,” FP says earnestly. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Alice blinks and seemingly gets her bearings. She takes a step forward and wraps her arms around her neighbour. “Thank you, Fred. You’ve always been so good to us.”

FP clasps Fred hand in his and pulls him in for a tight side hug. “You shouldn’t have.”

 

-

 

On Day 5 of their union, Betty and Jughead surprise them by making waffles for breakfast. Betty chastises her mother for trying to find ways to help while FP waits impatiently at the table salivating. 

As soon as there is a waffle in front of him, he drowns it in maple syrup and whip cream. Jughead does the same while Betty and Alice exchange a bemused look. 

“We talked to Polly,” Betty blurts out. Alice is immediately intrigued.

“Oh really? How is she? How are the twins?”

“They're fine,” Betty said. “We talked about throwing you two a reception of sorts?”

Alice’s grip tightens on her fork. “We eloped to avoid any sort of commotion.”

“I hear you, and I respect that,” Betty states calmly and FP wonders if she’s been reading some sort of family counselling book. “But we want to be able to celebrate with you.”

“It’ll be super chill,” Jughead adds. “Close friends and family only.”

Betty takes over.  “This year has been horrific-”

“- _ super _ dark-”

“- and it would be nice to be able to celebrate something positive-”

“-and what better thing to celebrate than love?”

Betty’s lips turn into her trademark crooked smile. She’s about to bring out the big guns and she knows it. “Polly says she’ll come.”

“Oh really?” Alice sits up straighter in her seat while clearly doing her best not to act too excited and get her hopes up. It’s been months since Polly came home, and she barely calls or texts anymore.

“Actually, this whole thing is her idea,” Betty mentions so nonchalantly FP chokes a little on his food. The girl sure knows how to push Alice. She shoves a bite into her mouth and carefully studies her mother.

Alice’s eyes dart towards him. “We’ll have to talk about-”

“I think it’s a good idea,” FP takes a sip of his coffee. This is a terrible idea. Formal parties have never been his thing and this marriage of convenience is getting out of hand. But her eyes are dancing with hope for the first time in a long time and he can’t bring it upon himself to take that away. “It’ll be good to have Polly home. Even better if Jellybean can come too.”

 

-

 

Later Alice thanks him for agreeing to the ridiculous party by tying him to a kitchen chair. His ankles are attached to the leg of the chair and his wrists are behind his back. FP’s clothes had long ago been discarded, the only item remaining is his boxers.

“I know you hate being the centre of attention,” she taunts, sliding a finger his bare chest. He inhales sharply. “Don’t worry, FP. We’ll work on it.”

She smiles when she glimpses him straining under his boxers, long, thick and hard, very hard, already. It’s a smile of triumph and satisfaction. He wonders how it’s possible that she be turning him on this much while _ she is still fully clothed _ . 

Alice reaches and holds him through his boxers, runs her fingers up and down his shaft. He jumps at the sudden contact, feeling his shudder of pleasure as the satin boxers rub against him. Leaning her head forward, she kisses the tip of his cock through the boxers, just hard enough for him to feel the heat, the pressure of her lips against him. His hips buck up towards her, and he moans involuntarily, tossing his head to the side, wishing he could move, wishing he could grab her head, run his hands through her soft curls and take control.

But that’s not happening. This time she is truly in control. She revels in it.

Alice pulls away, waits five seconds, then leans her head in slowly, then kisses the head of FP’s cock again. He groans and clamps his fists at this torturous pleasure. 

Alice finally reaches her hands in under the sides of his boxers and slowly strokes down and then up. She releases him, and slowly pulls the boxers around his ankles, leaving him naked, vulnerable.

She doesn’t touch him, not immediately at least. 

She starts removing her clothing, using the removed items to tease him; she runs her scarf around his neck, and her shirt down his body. She kicks off her shoes and drops her skirt on the floor, only clad in her red bra and underwear.

She takes a step behind him. He gulps.

“See anything you like, FP?”

“Fuck, yes,” his voice is scratchy and raw.

She peers over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow at his erection. “I can see that.”

She takes off  her panties and places them into his right hand which is still tied behind him, and her bra into his left. FP holds onto these items tightly, as one would hold a stress-ball, squeezing and releasing.

She smirks as she watches him, and he thinks briefly that she is much too satisfied with herself for making him lose control of his body.

She walks back around and sits on his lap, lowering herself slowly, so goddamn slowly, until his cock is just at her opening. FP groans, and bucks his hips upwards, towards her, towards the heat, warmth, wetness resting above him. But Alice pulls away, up... Still teasing. Always teasing.

“Not yet, FP. Only when I say.”

Alice is watching him, almost laughing. He’s sweating, trembling, rapidly reaching the point of no return. 

She leans her forward, still with her body just above his, and kisses his ear. Her breasts are right at his eye level, nipples taut and begging to be licked. She knows exactly what he's thinking. 

“Not today,” she whispers arching away from him. 

FP tosses his head to the side,  trying to catch her mouth with his, but she pulls away, too fast for him.

She laughs. The sound is musical. “Are you having fun yet?”

“I’ll get you back for this,” he rasps. She’s enjoying torturing him far too much. The fact that he can’t move, enjoying her total control of his body and unbeknownst to her, his heart. 

“I look forward to it,” Alice holds his face in her hands, and finally kisses him on the mouth. He moans at the feel of her tongue pushing into his hot wet mouth, teasing him, twisting and turning around his. 

She lowers her body until once again she is positioned above his hardness, and he can feel her heat.

Using her fingers, she rubs herself, briefly and quickly, managing to rub the head of his cock at the same time, igniting them both, making him harder than before, ready and willing.  

Alice lowers herself onto him. She is so slick with want, and FP lets out a moan at the realization of much Alice wants him inside her, right now, but dragging the moment out, increasing the suspense and anticipation. His fists tighten around her panties, until finally, in one sharp movement, she let him he inside her, all of him, deep within her. Alice gasps, and stops moving, and FP savours the sensation of him inside her, filling her u

Alice pulls herself up, then down again, and begins to ride him. Up, and down, faster and faster, further and further in, FP is moving his body with her, as much as he can still tied to the chair. She leans forward, her full breasts rub against his chest. He can feel her nipples harden further at the brief contact.

She’s kissing him now, they’re joined as one, kissing, moving together, inside each other, sharing everything. 

He’s starting to tense, and he knows is going to come. She must know too because she reaches one hand down and rubs her clit. Alice begins to moan, closes her eyes and throws her head back, breaking the contact she had with his mouth

She puts her left hand on his chest, she can feel his heart beating, her right hand is still rubbing, harder, faster. FP keeps moving with her, in, out, in, out, faster and harder. They are panting, breathing in sync with each other, calling out each others names.

With a final thrust, deeper inside her than any before, he lets loose, coming, hard and fast, spurting into her.

Feeling him come, her own orgasm bursts through her body. FP will never get used to the beautiful sight of Alice in bliss with his name falling from her lips.

  
  


-

 

FP has always had a hard time with self-control. If there is food in front of him, he will take a bite. If it’s  _ good _ food, he will eat the entire platter in thirty minutes. No chip bag, no box of Oreos, no ice cream container is safe from him. He will eat until there is none left, or until he gets sick. Whichever comes first.

As an adult, this flaw became  most noticeable with alcohol. He was never able to drink half a beer, or even just one. It always became more. If there was alcohol nearby, FP was sure to find it.

He loved it. It made him fun, it made him feel and it made him forget things he wanted to forget. He loved it until the hangovers were impossible to deal with, until his family hated him, and until it cost him everything.

In the middle of the night, with Alice snoring lightly behind him and her arm wrapped around his waist, FP considers the fact that he traded in one addiction for another.

Alice is everywhere and he is drowning in her. 

Even when he has some time to himself outside the confines of this house, FP finds himself thinking of her. He thinks of her eyes and how they sparkle with wonder, the way her eyebrows crease when she’s concentrating on counting stitches. He remembers the feel of her pressed against him. Her legs wrapped around him. The taste of her, all of her.

He thinks about how much he loves her laugh. How much he loves her.

But then during dinnertime with the Jughead and Betty, she's all poise and class and he's hit with pangs of guilt. Because everything they've done, whatever it is that they  _ are _ doing, it's  _ wrong _ .

FP doesn’t know all that much about law, but he knows that if anybody were to find out about the circumstances in which he and Alice got married, they would be imprisoned. Probably for fraud and/or obstruction of justice. And everything they've worked so hard to maintain will crumble around them.

And yet although he knows what's at stake, he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself.

 

-

 


	5. Chapter 5

The week begins, and then it ends. It’s all so mundane and yet somehow they’re so busy. Congratulatory cards appear in their mailbox, so Alice insists on writing personalized Thank You notes. Jughead and FP paint the former’s new room and they mostly finish moving in. FP and Alice look at vacant lots.

Meanwhile Betty plans The Reception every spare moment she has and Cheryl Blossom seems to have inserted herself into the middle of it.

“We’re family, Mrs J, ” Cheryl explains with a bright smile. It’s just a little unnerving. “I've totally forgiven you for dragging my name through the mud after Jason's traumatic demise. Besides, you're my dear niblings’ grandmother. Of course I’d want to help!”

Then she flips her red hair and adds: “Also your homicidal ex-husband might be replacing my dead homicidal father in the near future which makes Polly and Betty my potential new sister-cousins!”

Alice is taken aback, and Betty shoots her a sympathetic smile. “Mom, don’t worry. Cheryl knows how to throw a party.”

“Damn straight I do. I’m the best at it,” Cheryl links her arm through Betty’s and drags her upstairs. “Shall we discuss the seating charts?”

FP has remained silent up until now. He prefers to hide amongst the cushions than to have to partake in this crazy planning. “Seating charts? What seating charts? Why are there seating charts?”

Alice shakes her head and sinks into the couch next to him. “I don’t know.”

Jughead appears from the kitchen with a sandwich in hand. “If it makes you feel any better, Toni says that Cheryl is using this as some complicated ruse to get back at Penelope Blossom.”

FP throws his hands up in defeat. “Of course she is because that makes  _ so much  _ sense.”

“If Cheryl’s underlying motive is to get back at the she-devil, I say we let her,” Alice shrugs. “That woman is a boil, a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle…”

“Fine,” FP reluctantly. “Jug, make sure they don’t go overboard. We still get final approval.”

He nods, a mouthful of bread in his mouth, and bounces up the stairs.

FP turns to Alice. “She better not make me regret this.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “I’ll make sure you’re thoroughly satisfied by the end of the day.”

 

-

 

They fuck like rabbits. 

They’ve done it on the couch, in the kitchen, on the dining room table, the rug by the fire place, the stairs...on one particular morning FP played her with his fingers against the front door as soon as the kids left for school.

It keeps happening and FP can't find it within himself to stop. He figures it's because they're both unemployed and they have way too much time on their hands. Neither of them are willing to be on the Lodge’s payroll and ever since he finally retired from the Serpents, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

It's the same situation as high school; they have nothing to do, so they do each other. 

He offers to mow her lawn and she looks almost thankful. The grass in the backyard had gotten quite unruly and is now brushing up against his ankles. He pushes the lawnmower under the uncharacteristically hot sun, only pausing briefly to pull off his sweaty shirt and toss it onto an Adirondack chair.

Alice, meanwhile, is not dressed for gardening. She stands by her flowerbeds with a watering can in hand. She's wearing a yellow sundress and her hair is tied up in a ponytail reminiscent of her daughter’s. 

Finished with the grass, FP kills the motor. He wipes the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

“Your yard seems so much bigger now that I’ve had to mow it,” he complains and Alice laughs. She is bent over pulling stray weeds from around the flowerbeds and the sight of her makes FP’s heart soar. She looks so carefree. So happy.

He loves it when she laughs. It doesn’t happen often enough. 

She straightens up, and tosses the offending weeds to the side. FP makes a decision and is behind her in just a few steps. He wraps his arms around her waist, drawing her into his bare chest, his nose buried in her exposed neck.

She turns her head, a confused frown gracing her features. But her fingers lace themselves with his, giving him strength.

“You’re so fucking hot, Alice.” His voice is low.

Alice’s eyebrow quirks slightly. FP curses himself internally for not being more articulate. There are so many other words he could have used, but words have always been Alice’s thing and not his.

“Go on…”

FP doesn’t know what else to say,  nor how to say it, so instead he leaves a trail of kisses along the back and the side of her neck, along the top of her shoulders. Alice’s eyes flutter shut and he hears her release a soft sigh. He untangles his hands from hers, and cups her breasts, squeezing slightly. 

Alice shifts her weight and presses her rear against him. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

FP turns her head back towards him and kisses her lips. “I don’t plan on it.”

Something flashes in Alice’s eyes and she bites her bottom lip. “Fuck it. We’re married.”

FP furrows his brow. Before he can ask any questions, Alice takes his hand and pulls him onto the grass. She lies back and spreads her legs, the hem of her dress rising dangerously high.

“Jesus, Alice…” FP chokes. Could she be any hotter?

He’s immediately kissing her again, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her hands running up and down his naked torso. He lets his hand trace up her leg, further and further looking for that pesky scrap of fabric.

He never finds it. Instead his fingers meet her wetness without encountering any barrier. 

He groans when he realizes she hasn’t been wearing underwear the entire time.

Alice breaks the kiss and furiously starts unbuttoning his jeans. “As much as I’m enjoying this, you need to hurry up and fuck me.”

FP doesn’t argue and pulls them down to his knees. Her dress is already bunched up around her waist and she raises her legs so that they are pointing towards the sky and rests them on his broad shoulders. FP is upright, still on his knees, and he wraps one arm around her feet and lower leg while placing his other hand on her stomach. FP takes his cue and enters her slowly. She gasps.

Alice is so wet, so ready for him, and FP is completely and utterly surrounded by her. 

Alice squeezes her breasts as she moans wildly, her volume increasing with each deep thrust.

FP covers her mouth with his hand, muffling her cries. “The neighbours…”

They're protected by a thick barrier of cedar trees, but they can block only so much. 

Anybody can see them right now.

With her eyes half shut, and her own fingers pinching her nipples, Alice doesn't seem to care. If FP didn't know any better, it would seem that the chance of being caught is turning her on even more. 

God, he loves her.

He loves her, he loves her, he loves her.

#  -

 

This is his curse in life - to be so close to the one he loves and not be able to completely have her. He tries not to think too much about it. Thinking about it makes his head and his heart hurt. 

Incidentally, he can't help but think of Alice when she's not around. She's off at some PTA thing and he can't get her out of his head. She had fretted over her appearance, changed her blouse at least four times. This marks the first time she made a social appearance since the Black Hood fiasco and she wanted to look like she didn’t care when she cared a little bit too much.

Alice later comes home to find FP in the kitchen staring at a bottle of wine.

“I'm not drinking,” he says when he sees her hovering by the doorway. “I want to, god I want to, but I'm not.” 

No matter how low he got, at least he's not drinking.

“Where did you get that?” she asks softly.

“Your liquor cabinet.”

He expected judgement. He expected yelling because he definitely deserves it. He did not expect her to cast her eyes downwards and to apologize. “I’m sorry, FP. I didn’t even think… I should have gotten rid of it.”

She takes a seat next to him. “What's going on, FP? Please, talk to me.”

The knot in FP’s stomach twists and he almost tells Alice then, almost says _I'm in love with you_ , almost blurts it out right there in her kitchen because it’s _ Alice  _ with her blue eyes looking up at him and waiting patiently for a response. 

Instead he settles on a piece of the truth. “There’s been a lot of big changes lately and I have too much time to think,” he admits diplomatically. “It’s easy to fall into bad habits.”

It’s especially easy since Riverdale doesn't have AA meetings in the church basement anymore. Even if it did it would never be truly anonymous. This place is too damn small.

“What can I do to help?”

He wishes he knew.

She reaches for the bottle and places it in her lap. “I'll purge the house.”

He simply nods. That’s probably a good start. 

“And maybe tomorrow we can start a job search. I was thinking about doing that anyway...I don't know about you, but I need something to do...” Alice slips her hand in his. “But for now, how about we go for a ride on your bike? The fresh air might clear your head.”

He finally meets her eyes. “ _ You _ want to go for a ride? On the contraption of death?”

Alice’s eyes narrow. “Yes. Are you in?”

Oh, he’s in. More than she knows.

  
  


-

 

“I’m doing a load. Want to throw something in?” She’s standing at the top of the stairs with a wicker basket on her hip waiting for an answer. Her hair is in a lopsided bun on the top of her head and she’s dressed in yoga pants and one of his faded Radiohead t-shirts. 

Honestly, he didn’t even think about the laundry room in the basement. He rarely goes down there because it’s super fucking creepy, and he’s so used to visiting the laundromat in town. 

So when Alice asks if he has laundry to throw in, he adds to the pile. 

Alice folds everything so strangely. Apparently she read something about a Japanese method of organizing her drawers and it changed her life. Instead of piling the clothes on top of one another, she files them horizontally. 

She’s yammering on about it with his socks in her hands. His boxers are laid out on her bed to be folded next. 

It’s just too fucking domestic.

And yeah, maybe they’ve been getting increasingly domestic since eloping. It's all part of the pretense. But her offering, doing, and then folding his laundry is a whole other level. 

Cooking and eating together is one thing. Food is inherently a very social activity. 

Building a house together is still reasonable. Everybody needs somewhere to live. 

And people have meaningless sex all the time. Him and Alice are friends with benefits who just happened to get married to circumnavigate the law.

Laundry is something actual married people do together. There is something so intimate about her handling his socks and boxers and god, he wants that with her. He wants it to be real. 

He’s been deluding himself into thinking that he’s okay with this strange arrangement they have going on. 

It’s only been a few weeks and it’s getting harder and harder to keep lying about his feelings. The reception is scheduled to happen in less than a week and the kids are constantly asking for opinions and confirmation on every single little detail. Which flowers? Tablecloth colours? Band or DJ? Order of speeches? Where is Jellybean going to sleep when she arrives? And Polly and the babies?

At least Jughead ensured that the menu is fully taken care of. 

“I can’t do this, Alice,” he blurts effectively ending her tirade about folding methods.

“You can’t do what?”

“ _ This _ ,” he waves a hand between them. 

“I don’t understand.” Taking a deep breath, she drops the socks she had been holding and turns to face him.  “What exactly are you saying, FP?”

He doesn't know what she wants him to say, what she expects him to say. He closes his eyes, tries to quell his conflicting feelings.

“FP, please tell me what you want.”

He wants her. He wants all of her. Not this play they’re putting on for other people.

This is for the best. He knows this. He understands this. But right now, it  _ hurts. _

“Alice, I can't stay married to you.”

“No,” Alice’s eyes flash dangerously. “You don’t get to decide this, FP. Not this time.”

“Why not? Because you're the only one allowed to call the shots? Because right now our marriage fulfills your lifelong fantasy of a perfect Northside life that Hal took from you?” His frustration is finally bubbling over. 

Alice takes a step back. “Is that what you think of me?”

“It checks out. You always have an angle.” Hurt flashes in her eyes and a pang of guilt hits him. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Alice, I can't do til death do us part knowing you don't love me.”

“But I do love you, you nimrod!” she protests, a hand covering her mouth in shock after her blunt confession. 

His heart skips.

“Alice…” he says taking a step towards her.

She puts her hand up, stopping him. “No. Don’t...” she says weakly.  “I should have known you’d leave me.” Her shoulders slump and the fire in her eyes is replaced by an ocean of tears. She turns on her heel and rushes out the door.

 

-

 

He finds her in the old sewer tunnel in the forest. She’s sitting on her sweater, curled up with her knees to her chest, picking at some dead leaves with a twig. 

Her eyes are bloodshot and he _ hates _ that he did this to her.

“FP, I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“That’s fair. Don’t say anything,” he shrugs. “I just need you to listen.”

She just glares at him and then continues poking her leaves.

“I fucked up Alice,” he starts and her perfectly groomed eyebrow rises. He ignores it. “I fell in love with you a long time ago and I’ve gotten really good at denying my feelings. So good, in fact, that I didn’t notice what was happening right in front of me.”

“You’re in love with me?” her voice is so small, equal parts confused and hopeful. She keeps playing with her twig, refusing to meet his eyes.

FP nods. “So stupidly in love.”

And he really should have planned this out better. He’s so far out of his element as words have never been his strong suit. 

So he makes a decision and drops down to one knee in front of her.

She frowns. “What the hell are you doing?”

FP takes a deep breath. “It occurred to me that we got married without going on a proper date.”

She tosses her stick aside and finally looks up at him, so many questions swimming in her eyes.“I don't understand where you're going with this.”

He takes a chance and reaches for her hand. “Alice Jones, will you go out with me?”

She blinks. “How old are you? 12?”

“Emotionally speaking, yes,” he grins. “So how about it? Let’s go for a picnic by the river. Or we can go for a classic dinner and a movie.”

“I don’t care what we do as long as we’re honest with each other.” Alice reaches for his face and with both hands and kisses his smile. “I love you so much, FP and I love being married to you.”

“I love you too, Alice. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her brilliant smile crosses her face and she laughs. “We’re a disaster, aren’t we?”

“A bit, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

-

  
  


_ “FP and Alice sitting in a tree. _

_ K-I-S-S-I-N-G _

_ First comes love. Then comes marriage. _

_ Then come a baby in the baby carriage.” _

 

_ "Shut up, Penny!" _

 

_ "Yeah, Penny. You have no idea what you’re talking about!" _

 

Little did they know, 12-year-old Penny Peabody wasn't completely wrong. She just had it backwards. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This is the longest story I've ever written and I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought in the comments!
> 
> xxx


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